


Absence Makes the Fronds Grow Heartier

by TB_Anon_meme



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Absence, Fetish, M/M, Masturbating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 03:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20108422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TB_Anon_meme/pseuds/TB_Anon_meme
Summary: prompt: can be any pairing really (though im a huuuge fan of keith/ivan). i just want someone smelling another hero's clothing and getting turned on by the smell, be it sweat or cologne/perfume.Author: Anon





	1. Day 0/1

Day 0b

"It's gonna be a whole week. Are you sure you'll be all right on your own?"

"Kotetsu, it's only a week."

"Well, I guess. Don't get lonely, now, Bunny. Rabbits die when they—"

"Yes, yes, I know. They die when they get lonely. Fortunately, I am a human, not a rabbit. I'll be just fine."

Day -1

Kotetsu is restless at his desk, fidgeting and drumming his fingers on top of a stack of unfinished paperwork. His antsy behavior is enough to put Barnaby on edge. When he turns to ask Kotetsu to knock it off, Kotetsu interrupts him.

"Kotetsu—"

"Say, Bunny. If I went away for a while, would you be able to handle things on your own around here?"

At the word "away," the bottom drops out of Barnaby's stomach. Fearing the worst, Barnaby asks for clarification: "What do you mean, 'away?'"

"My daughter's class is going on a trip, and I really want to be a chaperone. You know, to make up for some of the time I wasn't there. It's been real quiet around here lately, so I submitted an application, but I'm not sure I can go. "

"What would prevent you from going? You know I'm fine on my own," Barnaby says. Seeing Kotetsu's pout, he appends, "At least for a little while."

"Hmm..." Kotetsu looks contemplative. "In that case, can you do me a favor?"

Barnaby agrees before even hearing what the favor is.

Day 0a

Kotetsu unlocked his front door and waved Barnaby inside. Barnaby glanced around, taking in the surprising cleanliness with something approaching awe. He knew what the apartment usually looked like, and clean was not it. Currently, everything was organized and dusted, and the fresh clean scent of lemon furniture polish lingered in the air. The last time he was there, it smelled like stale beer and gym socks. Kotetsu must have listened to his complaints.

"So, what do you need me to do?"

"Two things, actually." Kotetsu lead him to the kitchenette and pointed at the counter. "This."

"You need me to water this plant?"

"Yep. Kaede bought it for me, and I really don't want it to die while I'm off spending time with Kaede. That just seems so cruel for some reason. Anyway, water it once a day. Only give it up to this much water at a time, a little more if the dirt's pretty dry." He tapped the side of a measuring cup resting on the counter, still full of water. "I mean up to this mark, not the whole cup. You'd drown the poor thing!"

"I had gathered that." The plant was full and bushy, with many unopened flower buds, but to require that quantity of water, it would have to be much, much bigger. Or maybe a different type of plant.

"And item number two. It was still up in the air about whether I would go, so I didn't stop grocery shopping. I've got some food that I'd like you to have so it doesn't go bad while I'm gone. Just things that'll go bad soon, like the fruits and veggies, the milk, and the fresh meat. If you could take them home and cook them, that would be swell. Or if you want to cook them here, that's fine, too. Just clean up when you're done, not that I have to remind you."

"Is that everything?"

Kotetsu thought for a moment, rubbing his chin in exaggerated contemplation. "I just remembered something important," he said, snapping his fingers. He reached out to Barnaby like it was something serious, but instead, kissed Barnaby on the mouth. "Thanks, Bunny."

Barnaby was taken by surprise and shoved Kotetsu away. Kotetsu just laughed at him, at the way he can never get used to actually being able to kiss Kotetsu whenever he wanted, and at the way he sometimes forgot it was okay to. Then he turned serious. "Was that all right? It looked like you wanted it, but was I wrong?"

He saw right through me, Barnaby thought, and said, "It was all right. You just caught me by surprise."

"That's good, then." Kotetsu shifted from foot to foot, eyes darting around nervously. He leaned in again and planted another one on Barnaby, but this time, Barnaby was ready for it. Eager for it. He had Kotetsu backed up to the counter and bent almost backwards over it, one of Kotetsu's legs hooked around the back of him before long.

Barnaby was drowning in his scent and in the heat of his mouth when Kotetsu turned his head away and said, "Stop, stop, stop!" with increasing urgency. Barnaby pulled away as though he had been burned, ready to apologize for taking things too far, too fast.

Kotetsu pulled the poor potted plant back onto the counter after it nearly toppled off. "That was close!" Kotetsu said, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "We almost knocked it off." Kotetsu was forgiving and easygoing as always.

Barnaby just wanted to bury himself alive.

Day 1

Kotetsu is gone. It's very quiet.

Those were Barnaby's first two observations when he got to the office. Kotetsu's desk was even clean, cleared of all the miscellaneous paperwork that he never seemed to finish. He finished it all yesterday, though, and didn't even ask for Barnaby's help. He probably felt bad about asking for what little favors he'd already asked.

Barnaby couldn't complain. It was much easier to work without Kotetsu's constant distractions. He did love his partner, but even two people very much in love need breaks.

He turned in his paperwork for the day more punctually than ever, and he hit the gym. The keyring Kotetsu gave him also had his locker key and a spare car key on it. Thinking he would go above and beyond his duties and take Kotetsu's gym clothes home to wash (given how likely it was that he had forgotten), Barnaby let himself into Kotetsu locker. Yes, Kotetsu had left gym clothes in his locker, folded neatly on top of his sneakers, other personal possessions arranged on the shelves.

It was strange of Kotetsu to fold dirty gym clothes, though. Barnaby battled with himself over his next course of action, the appropriateness of it suspect. Glancing around to check if there was anyone to witness it, Barnaby lifted Kotetsu's clothes to his face and inhaled. He'd been mistaken. Kotetsu had already washed his clothes. They smelled clean and fresh, with the slight sweetness of fabric softener.

Barnaby felt like he'd been outsmarted, and he may have shut Kotetsu's locker a bit harder than necessary.

*

Kotetsu's plant had a single blooming blossom when Barnaby went to water it that night. If Kotetsu had cellphone reception at the campgrounds, he would have sent him a picture of it, but Kotetsu had said that they would be out in the wilderness, the nearest cell tower much too far away for his phone to be of any use. For now, he just saved the image to his phone to show him when he returned.

He thought about saying a few encouraging words to the plant, since talking to plants was scientifically proven to help them grow, but even completely alone in the apartment, Barnaby was too embarrassed by the thought of it. Kotetsu probably talked to it every day, though. Breaking that pattern might cause it to wither, and Barnaby didn't want to be the one to cause it. The plant's welfare was his responsibility, after all.

Tomorrow, he wold bring some clothes and toiletries, and make some noise in the apartment, so that the plant's growth wouldn't stagnate.

For today, he packed up some leftovers and went home.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret scent pervert, Barnaby, is cockblocked at every turn! How on Earth will he satisfy his lusty Old Man Smell cravings? And what role will this mysterious flowering fall plant have in this epic tale of a man's exploration of his base desires?! Warning: Plant/Barnaby in later chapters. (j/k)

Day 2

It was a waste of gas to drive from his home, to work, to Kotetsu's, and back home. All of these places were in completely different parts of the city, and getting to them in succession was ridiculous. For the remainder of his time taking care of Kotetsu's affairs while he was gone, Barnaby decided to just live at Kotetsu's. He had a nice direct route to work, and he would be able to check up on Kotetsu's plant easier. He really didn't want it to die on his watch.

Before he left for work in the morning, he threw a large duffel bag with a week's worth of clothes and a smaller tote bag of toiletries in the back of his car. He packed up his laptop as well, thinking to treat the plant to some music. Classical music supposedly made babies smarter, so it should be healthy for the plant. It would be less weird than talking to it.

Occupied with his plans for the evening, the work day passed in a flash.

*

There hadn't been any emergencies, and his call band had been quiet all day, so Barnaby left work a little early.

The plant had two flowers on it now. Barnaby put off unpacking and settling himself in for a moment to smell the flowers. They had a deep, musky sort of scent, not overly sweet like some flowers. Barnaby decided that he liked it. He plugged Kotetsu's stereo into his laptop and played his favorite opera while he unpacked his belongings. Maybe the flowers would like the music as much as he did, or whatever it was that flowers could do. 

He put the containers he'd taken from Kotetsu's house away and surveyed the contents of the refrigerator to see what he could make for dinner. Baby spinach wilted fast, and the apples in the crisper had seen better days. The sell-by date on the raw chicken breasts was fast approaching, as well. Apple chicken salad seemed like a logical dish to make, with minimal effort and mess.

Barnaby remembered to snap another picture and save it to his phone just after he got the cutting board out, and watered the plant after he had washed and put it away. He felt the soil to make sure it wasn't too dry and that he wasn't under-watering it, but it seemed fine. If Kotetsu had managed to keep this plant without killing it, so could Barnaby.

He shut down his computer for the night and headed to the shower, noticing with pleasant surprise that Kotetsu had cleaned it as well as he had the living area and kitchenette. The tiles and porcelain bathtub gleamed. The beard hair in the sink had been cleaned up, too. Barnaby wondered if Kotetsu had done it as a favor for him, to make his task that much more worthwhile. Barnaby would have done it, anyway, filthy living space or no, but Kotetsu's consideration touched him.

After the shower, he headed to bed. Kotetsu had even cleaned his bedroom, and the sheets had been changed recently, and were probably not slept in. They smelled of laundry detergent and nothing else, and Barnaby felt like he was climbing into a hotel bed. The whole apartment seemed almost sterile to him at that moment, and it was not a comfortable feeling.

He made a mental note to launder the sheets before Kotetsu got back, to leave the apartment the way he had found it.


	3. Day 3

Day 3

Perhaps the criminals had all gone on vacation, too. It certainly seemed that way, with how slow the week was progressing. Barnaby kept anticipating a call that never came, his call band remaining silent in an unbroken lull in crime. Leaving Apollon, he suddenly had an idea of why it had been so slow. It was sweltering outside. It was quite cooler in the mornings and evenings, but now, midday, the sun was beating down on the sidewalk, and the dry air was making his skin itch. The unseasonably warm weather couldn't be good for Kotetsu's plant.

He worried about it throughout his lunch break, enough that he made plans to stop in to check on it before the day was half over, but regretfully, his call band beeped, alerting him to a crime in progress, one that shouldn't have ever happened on such a hot day.

Wait a minute, this crime occurred only a block away from here. If he could catch the criminal without needing the transport vehicle, he could get to Kotetsu's apartment that much faster. Some sort of robbery with the unarmed criminal escaping on foot. Directly down the street Barnaby was currently on, actually. Easy points.

Barnaby braced himself to subdue the criminal and formulated a plan. Catching a petty thief was no big deal, at least, that's what Barnaby thought until he'd been nearly run down by the stolen hot dog cart that the thief was making off with. Barnaby dodged at the last moment, crashing into one of the tables outside the cafe he'd just patronized. Frightened citizens fled from the rolling cart, many of them running into one another in panic and upending businesses' outdoor furnishings. Barnaby didn't feel so bad about his own mishap.

Clearly, that hot dog cart was civilian property, and he would need to revise his plan in order to return it undamaged. He didn't have wires like Kotetsu, but he did have four more minutes of Hundred Power, so if he headed off the cart hurtling down the street and slowed it to a stop, he should be able to apprehend the criminal without damaging anything, "should" being the operative word.

Maybe he was being careless, or maybe it was the heat; perhaps he was simply out of practice. Whatever the cause, Barnaby's flawless plan was ruined when he sped in front of the fast-moving hot dog cart and promptly face-planted into the asphalt. The cart ran him over and the person making off with it trampled him. Barnaby sat up, dazed, and looked around furtively to see if anyone had seen him utterly embarrass himself. This street was mostly clear of people, the civilians having seen the commotion up the block and run away. The minor crimes didn't always have camera crews around to capture them, either. Barnaby's pride remained mostly undamaged.

While he sat there, the criminal had made a good effort at escaping. He or she was already a shrinking figure on the horizon. Barnaby still had at least three minutes left, more than enough time to stop him or her if only he could stop channeling Kotetsu and actually focus.

Kotetsu...

If Kotetsu had been there, it would have been different. Kotetsu would have been the one who tripped over his own two feet, and Barnaby would have been spared the humiliation. He didn't have time to sulk. His glasses had been shattered in the fall, and in a few minutes, Barnaby wouldn't be able to see a thing. He'd be powerless to stop the thief.

He took off running again, first checking to see if his boot laces were tied and watching a bit more closely where he stepped. He caught up in seconds, heading off the hot dog cart and catching it by the corners. Then he dug in, trying not to think about how he might be damaging his boots in the process. The criminal's momentum made him or her run into the back of the cart. They were caught in the midsection by the top bit of the cart, and they collapsed back on the ground, winded. Barnaby wrinkled his nose in disgust when they vomited all over the street.

Barnaby searched for the breaks so the cart wouldn't roll further down the street, and he made his arrest. The smell of hot dogs and bile was turning his stomach, and he used his call band to inform the TV crew of his arrest.

In less than five minutes, just as his powers were fading, a police car rolled into view and down the street. Barnaby let them deal with the formalities, and he excused himself from the scene. He couldn't drive without his glasses, so he had to walk to Kotetsu's apartment.

It was even hotter in Kotetsu's apartment than it was outside. Barnaby got a pair of spare glasses on his face, and checked on Kotetsu's plant right away; it was beginning to droop. The dirt in the pot was completely dry on top as well. Barnaby watered it and hoped that it would get better when it cooled down. Its two open purple flowers were wilting, and the sight was heartbreaking. Barnaby sympathized with the plant. He felt as though he were wilting, too.

He turned a fan on and got in the shower, not praying that his call band wouldn't go off, but with high expectations that his evening would be less eventful. He was not disappointed. 

*

Barnaby called Agnes to apologize for leaving work, and not staying for the film crew.

Agnes wasn't mad that he had cut out early. The crime wasn't even approaching TV material, and the only reason he'd been called out was for the fact that the criminal was an athlete and the police weren't sure how to stop him or her without damaging property or injuring the thief. Barnaby was good at not breaking things, and he hadn't much action that week. She thought he could use a distraction with Tiger away, something to keep him on his toes so that in the event of a real crime that would grab viewers' attention, he wouldn't fall flat on his face. She said that last bit was a metaphor when Barnaby denied ever doing such a thing.

He hoped he didn't come across as oddly defensive, that his specific denial wasn't suspicious. 

*

Later that night, Barnaby ate dinner to a soundtrack of wailing opera music.

At least Kotetsu's plant was perking up, even if Barnaby himself wasn't. One of the buds was just beginning to open on the opposite side. It wasn't quite there yet, but it was close. Barnaby debated for a moment and snapped a picture anyway. He had taken one once a day, so he might as well continue that habit. He stroked the bud with the tip of his finger.

"Kotetsu, you should see your plant. You should be here to watch it grow." Barnaby crossed his arms on the counter and rested his head on them. "But you're with your own little sprout. You missed a lot of her growing up." Barnaby felt around the base of the pot, noting that the soil was dry again. He gave it some more water. "I guess this time together is crucial. You need to shower her with attention. She needs it. I'm done growing." Realizing what he said, Barnaby felt ashamed of himself. Also, stupid, but mostly ashamed. "Forget I ever said that," he said to the plant, then scolded himself mentally. It's a plant. Why am I talking to a plant like it understands me?

Clearly, he was tired. He shut down his laptop and went to bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time before falling into a fitful slumber. That vague hollow ache in his chest made it difficult to sleep.


	4. Day 4

Day 4

Barnaby was sore in the morning. He had healed the minor scrapes sustained from his run-in with the rogue food cart while he still had his Hundred Power active, and he didn't have any other injuries. So what was this bone-deep weariness that pervaded every limb in his body? His arms and legs felt so heavy that he was convinced he wouldn't be able to move.

He felt an even deeper dread when he remembered that he left his car at Apollon. Early morning public transit was unappealing even on days when Barnaby didn't feel like he would never get up. He forced himself up anyway, since nothing ever got accomplished lying around in bed. He still needed to do his hair, which took much longer than he cared to admit, and he needed to leave early to catch the bus. He could call a cab, but what was the point of staying at Kotetsu's to save on gas if he was just going to make some else burn it, and at a greater expense?

At least the plant was doing well. Barnaby stared at it over a bowl of cereal. The half-open bud was fully open that morning, and the two adjacent buds had also bloomed. It didn't seem like it needed any water, and it had completely recovered from yesterday's heat wave. Seeing it in such great shape gave Barnaby the strength to board a bus and suffer through the stares and the whispers. He wasn't a hot-shot anymore, but he was still a celebrity, at least B-list, so he smiled for the fans even though he just wanted to crawl back in bed.

*

He ate leftover apple chicken salad for lunch, having no particular desire to go to the cafeteria or grab something outside, considering yesterday's events. Halfway through the meal, it finally dawned on Barnaby—this favor was Kotetsu's ingenious plan to make sure Barnaby ate properly while he was gone.

You're not even here and you're meddling in my business, Barnaby thought, but it was with affection and not malice. Kotetsu's vacant chair seemed even emptier just then. Barnaby ate the rest of his lunch without tasting it.

*

He didn't work out very hard at the gym. Most of Barnaby's time on the weight trainer was spent brooding, wondering if Kotetsu was having fun, or if Kaede was sick of her dad's hovering presence yet. If Kotetsu missed him.

He didn't do many reps that day.

Barnaby tried the treadmill next, hoping that the previous day's inexplicable and uncharacteristic clumsiness was just a bit of bad luck. He didn't trip or fall or fly off the back of it like he'd feared, but running in place was getting him nowhere, and he didn't feel at all like he'd accomplished anything.

Without a spotter, he didn't feel comfortable benching anything, and he didn't have it in him to wail on a combat dummy, so he wrapped up his training and went to the locker room to change.

Kotetsu's locker was just another reminder that his partner wasn't around. Barnaby opened it and looked inside, still struck by the organization. Usually when this locker was opened, everything fell out. It still was full of crap that Kotetsu didn't really need, but at least it was shelved properly and not just haphazardly shoved in. He'd forgotten his cologne, Barnaby noticed, unless the bottle in there was a spare. Barnaby didn't know anyone else who used that particular brand.

He took the bottle and sprayed a little bit on his wrist. The smell reminded him strongly of Kotetsu, and memories came unbidden to his mind, nothing distinct, but very much Kotetsu-shaped. Barnaby understood now how smell was so closely linked to memory.

For the rest of the day, whether he was aware of it or not, Barnaby adjusted his glasses more than necessary and fixed hair that wasn't out of place, just to bring the cologne closer to his nose and smell the scent of the man he wouldn't admit he missed.

*

Kotetsu's plant had open blossoms along most of the left side that night. Its growth is remarkable, Barnaby thought. He snapped a picture on his phone after watering the plant. "It must really like opera," Barnaby said aloud.

Barnaby played a different track that night during dinner. He tried his best to enjoy the food he'd made, but the smell of the cologne confused his palate, and gave him an appetite for something food couldn't satisfy. He showered and went to bed unfulfilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mystique around this flowering fall plant clears as it is revealed to be...an ordinary Potted Plot Device. Will the occasional whiff of Kenzou be enough to quench the perverse thirst Barnaby is not even aware he has?! Does the w!anon have some sort of bizarre kink for making fun of Barnaby?! Tune in for the next exciting update of Barnaby Eats Food, Waters a Plant, and Smells Things.


	5. Day 5

Day 5

"Barnaby, sir, are you feeling okay?" Ms Violet asked him that morning in the gym.

Barnaby had never shown much camaraderie toward the other members of the Second League beyond what was polite, so her concern for him was unexpected. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Mr. Tiger asked us to look after you while he was away. You sure don't seem fine, though."

"I'm...fine," Barnaby repeated, voice going a little higher than he intended it to. "You don't need to worry about me."

"I do have to. You're a valuable member of the Second League, and Mr. Tiger's friend. And m-maybe our friend? No, no that was too presumptuous of me!"

Barnaby couldn't remember having an actual conversation with the hero before, and now he was getting a taste of what he'd been missing. He hadn't been missing much, honestly. But she was a diversion, something to take his mind off of whatever uneasiness he'd been feeling since Kotetsu had left.

"If I wasn't fine, what were you intending to do?"

Ms Violet froze, mouth opening and shutting silently, unable to form an answer. She shook her head and snapped herself out it, standing straighter and delivering the next line like she was a soldier answering her superior. "Sir, I was going to invite you out with us, sir. I and the other heroes go out to the Heroes Bar on Fridays when there hasn't been much action! I think a night out would do you some good. Oh, there I go, presuming again!"

"No, you might be right." Barnaby didn't like crowds, or bars, or crowded bars, and the idea of a night out was anything but appealing. But a distraction was presenting itself, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away. "If that offer is valid, I would actually like to go." 

Ms Violet just gaped for a while, probably shocked that Barnaby actually wanted to go. "Y-yes, of course! I'll let the guys know. Drinks are on us tonight!"

Barnaby stopped her before she could leave. "Wait, I have just a few questions."

"Yes, I'll answer them to the best of my ability, sir!"

"Can you lift one hundred fifty pounds?"

"Yes, that amount of weight is no problem for me!" Ms Violet said, flexing one arm and patting her bicep with the opposite hand.

"In that case, would you spot for me?"

"Absolutely!"

After a while at the weight bench, they swapped, and Barnaby spotted for Ms Violet. He had to catch the bar and keep it from crushing Ms Violet's face when their alarm started sounding and startled her into losing her grip.

"Oh, that was close! Thank you!"

"Thanks are not necessary." I would have been the one being rescued if I were still on the bench, Barnaby thought.

Agnes' voice boomed over the speakers: "Bonjour, Heroes. The First League is busy right now trying to deal with the sinkhole that opened up on the Bronze Stage, so I'm going to need you to catch the prolific mugger who's been robbing rich women on the Gold Stage. She targets the ones with little purse dogs, so for every robbery, she creates two victims. Catch her and we'll slap her with animal abuse charges, as well. We don't know her exact location, but she's on a spree, so you should be able to find her after a thorough sweep. Be careful, though; she's probably armed."

"You heard her, sir! Let's get chasing!"

"I have a better idea."

"Oh?"

"Let's instead make her come to us."

"How will we do that?"

"I'm going to need your help. And another volunteer."

*

Sumo Thunder made an excellent woman. He was very large, too, so there was quite a lot of woman to behold. Ms Violet had done well on his disguise.

Barnaby hadn't expected Sumo Thunder to volunteer, but he had expected even less the level of...enthusiasm the man had expressed for it. He chose not to examine that too closely.

Anyway, they were ready to set up the ambush. The bait, Sumo Thunder, dressed up like a rich lady with a tiny stuffed dog in his over-sized purse, pretended to window shop and wandered down a dark alley occasionally. The rest of them stood at attention in strategic locations around the area.

There wasn't a film crew, but Agnes had asked him to capture footage through the camera in his helmet, so Barnaby worked on getting establishing shots while they waited for the mugger to take the bait. 

And waited, and waited...

Barnaby was just starting to think that allowing Sumo Thunder to play the part of the victim had been a mistake and that he should have chosen someone a little more "dainty" to act as bait, when the alarm sounded in his ear, alerting him to the thief's presence. This mugger was known to threaten her victims into silence with her gun, so instead of sending the message verbally, they had linked their communicators for this purpose. Sumo Thunder had pressed the proverbial panic button.

The theme of the evening was teamwork, so rather than make the arrest all by himself, Barnaby worked on disarming the thief, and let Ms Violet have the arrest.

I don't even need Hundred Power for this, Barnaby thought as he dropped off a fire escape and gave chase. Ms Violet followed closely behind him.

The thief thought she was getting away, so when she paused for a breath at the end of an alley, her face froze comically in an expression of pure terror at the sight of Barnaby's hero suit. Barnaby didn't give her the chance to shoot the gun she held in one trembling hand. He rushed in and kicked it from her grasp, the firearm ricocheting off the building and shattering into a dozen or so pieces.

Ms Violet had charged in only moments after him, and cuffed the crook, still in shock. After successfully subduing the suspect, she called the police to their location.

Barnaby examined the remains of the gun. The toy gun. That woman robbed people at gunpoint with this thing. Unbelievable.

The police arrived and carted her off and collected the broken shards of plastic as evidence. The rest of the Second League heroes met up with them soon after.

"Are the plans for this evening unchanged?" Barnaby asked them.

Chopman laughed in his face. "There isn't a Second League crime big enough to keep us from taking you out tonight."

Really, that wasn't saying much, but Barnaby understood the sentiment.

"I'm the designated driver," Bombeman said, "so after we change, do you all want to just leave from Apollon in my van?"

A chorus of agreement rose up, Barnaby the lone dissenting voice. "I'm sorry, but I have something to take care of before I can go," he said. "How about I meet you at the bar?"

"Well, that's fine, as long as you promise to show up and let me drive you home when you're ready to leave."

"Don't worry," Barnaby said. "I will."

*

With Kotetsu's plant taken care of—care which included playing one of Kotetsu's records for it while Barnaby was out—Barnaby dressed casual and drove to the bar. It was just as crowded and noisy as he had anticipated, but at least it wasn't smoky. The other Second League heroes, now out of costume—except Sumo Thunder, who curiously remained dressed in drag—waved him over to their booth.

"I was afraid you weren't going to come!" Bombeman said.

"I don't break my promises," Barnaby said, taking a seat next to Chopman.

Ms Violet was at the bar, getting them a round. Barnaby wasn't upset that they had ordered for him, but—okay, never mind, he was upset. He didn't know what they had ordered, and he wasn't sure he'd like it. He'd have to drink it anyway, because to do otherwise would be wasteful and unspeakably rude. Ms Violet set the tray down and handed out the glasses when she returned, Bombeman taking the lone pint glass full of cola.

The drink was served in a wine glass, and was a frothy, cloudy pink. If he didn't know better, Barnaby would have thought that it was actually wine, but the color was off, and the smell was very sharp and alcoholic, not sweet and mild like the wine he preferred to drink. Ms Violet took a seat across from him, and they all looked expectantly at him.

"Is something wrong?" he said, growing uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

"Aren't you going to ask what it is?" Sumo Thunder said.

Am I allowed to? "I was wondering..." If maybe I could order my own drinks for the rest of the night.

Ms Violet raised her glass, the liquid inside threatening to spill over from the fullness, and said, "It's a Barnaby Brooks, Jr.!"

"A what?"

"It's a cocktail named after you," she said. "We do rounds of all the King of Heroes cocktails, and when we run out, we sometimes do the current hero lineup cocktails. If we're still conscious by then."

"Sometimes we do it the other way, and go in order of the current rankings," said Sumo Thunder.

"Blue Rose is MVP, but since you're our guest of honor, we thought we should start with yours," said Chopman. "Besides, Blue Rose's cocktail is kind of gross."

"Just because you don't like peppermint in your drinks doesn't mean the cocktail is gross," Bombeman said.

"Anyway," said Ms Violet, steering the conversation back on track. "The next round is going to be a Sky High, since we skipped this year's King of Heroes. You don't have to drink them, of course. Order what you like! This is just what we do."

"We also do a toast," said Bombeman. "You want to toast to something in particular?"

"Not really."

"Well, since Mr. Tiger isn't here, why don't we toast to him?"

"I second that!" said Ms Violet. Everyone seemed to be in agreement.

Barnaby didn't care one way or another, and so found himself clinking his glass against the others', saying, "To Wild Tiger!" with them. They didn't all have them same drinking styles, some of them gulping the drink down in one shot, others savoring the taste, so Barnaby took the drink at his own pace. It wasn't bad, the initial sting of alcohol mellowing out into something fruity and refreshing. The drink was strong though; Barnaby could feel the alcohol burning in his belly after just a few sips.

"Tastes like a Cosmo, doesn't it? That's because it basically is a Cosmo, except giant," Ms Violet said.

"I wouldn't know," Barnaby replied. "I don't usually drink mixed drinks. I'm more of a wine person, honestly."

Ms Violet looked scandalized. "You're missing out, then! There's a whole world of combinations with subtle differences to be explored, and you don't know the first thing about them."

"Are you some sort of expert, then?"

"Well, bartending did put me through the Academy. Do you want me to make some recommendations?"

So much for ordering my own drinks tonight.

*

Barnaby was drinking his first—excuse me, technically, his second—Wild Tiger, and was starting to have fun against his will.

"How is it?" Ms Violet asked. "A Wild Tiger is just like a Bengal Tiger, but with Midori instead of maraschino liqueur. That's why it looks like green baby poop." She said that like Barnaby knew what any of that meant.

"I like the taste of Wild Tiger," Barnaby said, grinning crookedly. Ms Violet beamed like she had been the one to make the drink he was praising. She doesn't get it, he thought, letting out a short bark of laughter. He was in such a good mood, no thanks to the Sky High (which he was informed was a virgin), that he was feeling really generous. He fumbled his wallet open and got his credit card out. Thrusting it at Ms Violet, he said, "Go buy the bar a round on me."

"Barnaby, sir, are you sure?" she asked.

"Did I stutter?"

"No, but you did slur there a bit, sir."

"Stop calling me 'sir.'"

"Okay, ma'am." She took his card and went to the bar.

Barnaby wobbled to the bathroom. He could hear the patrons cheering from there. That's right, peons, Barnaby Brooks, Jr. himself just bought you a drink. He stood inside the stall for what seemed like a long time, leaning back against the door, waiting out tremors in the floor and the rocking of the building that he had convinced himself was real and not just his drunken imaginings.

Kotetsu, I wish you could see this, he thought as he washed his hands. I know you'd be so proud that I made friends.

Ms Violet was waiting for him with something in an old-fashioned glass at the booth. "This is a Mr Legend," she said. "Unlike a Legend's Cola, this one is not virgin. Also, it's pretty strong."

Barnaby sat and took the glass. The Barnaby Brooks, Jr. had been pretty strong, so he figured he could handle this one.

His memories of the bar stopped right around the time he set the glass down, the ice cubes clinking. He had blacked out.

*

Bombeman, the only sober hero present, had taken good care of Barnaby. He could tell Barnaby had reached his limit, and cut him off, plying him with ice water whenever he could, and helping him to the bathroom when Barnaby had trouble walking.

Sumo Thunder was starting to get tipsy, and guys were trying to buy him drinks, which usually signaled the end of their night out. He paid their bill with the money they pooled and rounded them all up into his van. 

Bombeman had done this so many times before that he had directions to everyone's houses memorized. The last person left in his van was Barnaby, and he didn't now where Barnaby lived. Gently, he shook Barnaby awake. As the guest and most drunk person, they'd strapped him into the passenger's seat.

"Barnaby, where do you live?"

"Whuzzat?"

"I'm driving you home, and I need to know where you live."

Barnaby looked like he wanted to go back to sleep, but he woke up fully, rubbing his eyes. Instead of outright telling Bombeman his address, Barnaby gave him directions. Making a turn, Bombeman felt that the path he was taking was familiar. The feeling only intensified when he rolled up in front of a building he was certain he'd driven to before.

"Barnaby, do you live with Mr. Tiger?"

Barnaby froze, his hand groping for the handle on the door. "No," he answered.

"Oh, so you're taking care of his pet or something."

"Or something," Barnaby repeated lamely, finally getting the door open and forgetting to unbuckle his seatbelt. Bomebeman unlatched it for him, and Barnaby retreated to the front door, struggling with a keyring until he got the door unlocked. Bombeman sat there until he was safely inside, then drove himself home.

*

He suspects something, Barnaby thought, heart racing. "I'm not doing anything wrong," he said to the plant. "Am I?" Already sobering up, Barnaby took a few calming breaths and thought, This is just drunken paranoia.

He didn't want to suffer in the morning, so he planned ahead. A glass from the kitchen, filled with water on the nightstand, something for a headache, and a shower to help sober him up even more. He ate a piece of bread to absorb some of the alcohol before going to the bathroom. He showered under hot water to get the alcohol moving through his system faster, and checked in the medicine cabinet for anything that could help a headache. There was aspirin, ibuprofen, and acetaminophen, and a glorious half-full bottle of l'eau par Kenzou. Barnaby took it with him before he knew what he was doing, along with a handful of assorted pills.

He set the glass and the pills on the nightstand, and turned down the sheets, spritzing the bedspread and the pillow with the cologne. Barnaby climbed in bed naked, and held the pillow like it was his lover, burying his face in the fabric and inhaling the scent. It didn't smell like Kotetsu, exactly. Barnaby had been sleeping on this pillow for close to a week, so it smelled like his conditioner and Kenzou. It still reminded him of Kotetsu, somewhat, and he clung to that pillow in his sleep, resting sounder than he had since Kotetsu had left him. That could have just been the effect of the alcohol, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have enough characters left for a clever comment this time. Sorry, guys.  
…
> 
> And now, the thrilling conclusion to this unnecessarily long fill; aka the porny bit.


	6. Day 6

Day 6

It was morning, and Barnaby felt just fine, curled up in the blankets, Kotetsu in his arms. No, wait, that was just a pillow. Time for some revision: Barnaby was almost fine that morning, curled up in the blankets, but with Kotetsu-sized hole punched in his life. The realization made him not want to get up at all, but he really needed to use the bathroom, and was simultaneously thirsty.

Later, as he was staring into his cereal bowl, he admitted it. "I miss him," he said. "I miss Kotetsu." Kotetsu's plant didn't answer, not that he expected it to. That was okay. It couldn't tell anyone what he'd said. His mood only soured further when he remembered that he left his car at the bar. He'd have to take the bus again.

Barnaby was listless all day at his desk, turning in his paperwork later than usual, and he put forth a lackluster performance at the gym. The other heroes probably thought it was just him nursing a hangover, but he was physically all right. It was just his feelings that hurt, loneliness starting to take its toll on his psyche. Even there in that gym full of people who wanted to be his friend, Barnaby felt so incredibly alone.

I feel like that all the time, though, Barnaby thought. What is it about Kotetsu that makes it so different? Probably the fact that unlike friends or acquaintances, Kotetsu was special. Barnaby loved him. Since when was I so dependent? This isn't good, not at all.

He couldn't go on like this—it wasn't like him to be so deeply affected by something that wasn't the least bit traumatic or triggering. You're being a big baby about this, Barnaby thought to himself. What would Kotetsu think if he knew what you were feeling? He'd laugh at you. Berating himself didn't seem to be helping. In fact, it was just making him feel worse. He switched tactics: It's only two more days—less since today is halfway over. Just endure it for that long. Who knows how Kotetsu will reward you... Barnaby's thoughts trailed off right there, and he started to daydream.

"Excuse me, can I use the machine?"

Barnaby was yanked out of his pleasant dreams by Sumo Thunder. "Y-yes, of course," he said, getting up and allowing the other man a chance at it. How long had he been hogging it? Not even using it, just sitting on it with his head in the clouds? Disgraceful.

After that, he put everything he had into his workout.

*

He was fine until lunch. If only he had gotten his sandwich dry, this wouldn't be happening to him. Coming up from the cafeteria with a sandwich, he'd sat down at his desk. One bite of his sandwich had been enough to completely undo him. The taste, the texture, the smell of the mayonnaise was what had done it; that, combined with the persistent sight of Kotetsu's empty desk was enough to set him off.

Barnaby lost his appetite and wanted nothing more than to go home. It's just a little longer, he thought, sitting down in Kotetsu's chair, and putting his head down on the desk. He continued his rationalizations, calming himself down and pulling himself together. Eventually, he felt strong enough to finish his lunch, and so he did, savoring the mayonnaise in a way that would have made Kotetsu proud. 

*

Barnaby was at least self-aware enough to recognize that he was a great big bag of issues. Today, he added "deviant" to that list. Rather than dwell on it, he embraced it. Just this one time, when he had nothing to lose, and had something he needed to learn about himself, or more accurately, something he needed to confirm.

Kotetsu's plant was almost fully in bloom. Barnaby snapped one last picture of it, and watered it for the last time. Kotetsu's refrigerator was mostly empty. Barnaby didn't bother making himself anything to use up the last of the ingredients. He wasn't hungry.

Kotetsu's hamper was in the bathroom; if it had been in the bedroom, Barnaby would have taken notice of it sooner, probably done this sooner. He lifted the lid off of it and removed the first article he came in contact with. It was an undershirt; simple cotton cloth that had come directly in contact with Kotetsu's skin. Barnaby lifted it to his face and breathed in.

Oh god, Kotetsu...

The smell made his knees weak, and his vision went white for a moment while he tried to manage the powerful scent-associated memories that no longer lie dormant in his mind. He swallowed heavily.

Barnaby then took the entire hamper up the stairs with him and upended it over Kotetsu's bed, climbing on top, stretching out and rolling over onto his back. There was only a few days' worth of laundry, but all of it had the distinct masculine smell of Kotetsu's sweat and the faint citrus tang of his cologne. He turned his head to bury his nose in one of Kotetsu's dirty dress shirts. Barnaby could feel himself growing hard.

I'm a pervert, he thought, sliding his hands down his body to his stiffening cock, and I don't even care.

Barnaby curled his fingers around himself, remembering that first awkward handjob Kotetsu gave him, reliving the experience and recalling the sensation of Kotetsu's hand around him. He'd been so nervous that he couldn't stay completely hard, and the embarrassment from his poor performance made it difficult for him to come, but up until then, Barnaby had never felt so good. He imagined he was back there, Kotetsu's hand down his pants, mouth on his ear, whispering, "Is this good, Bunny? You like it?"

They'd both been sweaty and unshowered, a fact that Barnaby now realized was probably what had started his fixation. It made too much sense.

The Kotetsu in his imagination was touching him, and Barnaby mirrored his actions, gripping his cock hard and stroking himself in time. You gonna come soon? he was saying.

Yes, Barnaby answered back, hand speeding up on his erection, wet with precum. He licked his lips and groped around on the bed, bringing the first article of clothing he grasped up to his nose and inhaling. Kotetsu's dirty boxer shorts. How fitting.

Dirty Bunny, imaginary Kotetsu said, twisting his fist the way Barnaby liked it. You're filthy.

Barnaby whimpered, no retort for his imagination. He was so close, so close, he couldn't think, could only feel. His toes curled in the laundry and he arched off the bed, crying out for Kotetsu as he came.

Gradually, he got his breath back, and his thoughts slowly trickled back into his head. He'd deal with them tomorrow. Right now, he was tired, spent, and didn't have the time or energy to reflect on the fact that he was a sick pervert. He picked up his heavy limbs, threaded his arms through one of Kotetsu's shirts and shimmied into a pair of his shorts. Barnaby then burrowed under the remaining laundry, covering himself in discarded clothes. Like that, it felt almost as though Kotetsu were embracing him.

Barnaby slept like a rock.


	7. Final Day

Final Day

Kotetsu comes home today. That was Barnaby's first thought that morning, closely followed by, I made a huge mess. and the panicked, Will I even have enough time to clean this up?

It was true: Kotetsu's crisp clean sheets were soiled, with dirt from his pants, Barnaby's sweat, and some wayward streaks of come. Kotetsu's dirty clothes had incriminating stains as well, especially the shorts Barnaby was wearing, as he'd had a wet dream last night.

I don't have time to be mortified, Barnaby thought, jumping up out of bed and getting a move on. Shower, laundry, more laundry, then air out the bedroom. If he moved quickly, he'd have enough time before Kotetsu got there, and he wouldn't be caught with his pants down. Or, well, Kotetsu's pants on, but whatever. 

Barnaby was making the bed when heard the click and rattle of the front door being unlocked. "I'm home!" Kotetsu called out.

"Welcome back," Barnaby said without thinking.

"Eh, Bunny, you were here?"

"Yes." He descended the stairs, taking in Kotetsu's new mountain man looks.

"I was hoping to at least shave before anyone saw me," Kotetsu said, dropping his bags on the floor. He extended his arms out and cocked his head to the side. "Did you miss me?"

Barnaby hugged him, quickly overwhelmed by the scent of Kotetsu's unwashed body. He broke away before he could become embarrassingly hard, saying, "I hardly noticed you were gone."

Kotetsu pouted. "It's because I smell isn't it?"

Barnaby didn't answer him.

"Wow! My plant looks great, at least. When did this happen? It was all green when I left." Kotetsu brushed his hand over the open flowers, and Barnaby had to look away.

"I've been looking after it every day. I even have a photographic record of its growth."

"Oh, good idea. You know, if it were a hassle, you could have just taken it to your house and watered it there."

That had never even occurred to Barnaby. "It was no trouble. I also washed your clothes, since I had laundry of my own to do."

"Thanks! I appreciate it. I'm going to take a shower now. I'm gross."

He'll see all the soap I didn't put away. My toothbrush is still on the sink. "You don't need to," Barnaby said, stepping in front of him and blocking his path. Kotetsu edged around him.

"Oh, I need to. You don't even know what I've been in. I'll tell you all about it, later. Right now, I just want to get clean."

Barnaby watched Kotetsu go. The door to the bathroom closed, and Barnaby fell like it was some sort of clever metaphor for how his life would soon be over. He wondered whether running away would be better or worse, how bad it would look if he was gone when Kotetsu got out of the shower.

He needn't have worried. Kotetsu emerged fifteen minutes later, one eyebrow raised, and nothing but a towel around his waist. "I see you invited yourself to a sleepover tonight," Kotetsu said, lips parting in a lecherous grin.

"What? Oh. Yes, that's it. You saw right through me."

"You can't fool Wild Tiger, Bunny. You totally missed me. That's why you were so eager to spend the night the day I got back. It's okay, this old man will take good care of you."

Barnaby wasn't a religious person by nature, so he wasn't sure who to send a prayer of gratitude to for this favorable outcome. He decided to just thank entropy and be done with it.

"Hey, Kotetsu," Barnaby said into his neck as he hitched Kotetsu's leg higher on his hip, "In case you haven't realized, I didn't die."

Kotetsu let out a breathy little laugh. "Yeah, you seem just fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, that's it! Thanks for reading. Tip your waitstaff and all that jazz


End file.
